#Sniper Techniques

[skillissue71]

sooooooorryyyyy.........

[acsuttles]

4K – Assassin’s Creed Shadows – Part 4

#TheKillingField #KilltheExecutioner #Naoe #MusicScore #NakayamaPeak #FiguringThingsOut #Strategizing #UpgradingtheHideout #HeadsWillRoll #TalktoKyonyo #Amagaski #MukoPostTown #TheGuide #Yaya #KilltheSnipersAtTheGates #AssassinateWadaKoretake #TheOnryo #TryDifferentTechniques #LevelUp #FriendofMyEnemy #TalkToTomiko #MeetMitsuhide #TennojiTemple #TheStrayDogs #FindYaya #SumiyashiShrine #GraveDancer

[mushbones]

God that meme about tf2 players getting a very special brainrot where just seeing the mercs makes us laugh is so real huh.

[wtfforged]

my campaign hiatus has gone on for too long so to cope ive combined my interests at their maximum potency and had some dnd-strawhats thoughts

thoughts in depth under read more... :)!

this is SO self indulgent. their designs literally did not change. but i am a firm believer that dnd doesnt have to be european high fantasy. and also one piece literally IS fantasy. no changes are necessary to fit into dnd. ive already imagined plenty of campaign/oneshot ideas inspired by one piece. so this was basically just an exercise of trying to replicate their canon abilities in dnd 5e as much as possible without totally homebrewing everything. well. aside from luffy. you just cant take away or change his stretching.

LUFFY: (human monk. drunken master subclass. outlander)

the only plain human of the crew to balance out with the fact that he still has rubber powers. obviously a monk. but drunken master subclass specifically because i think the flavor(not the fact that its about being a drunkard) and abilities both fit him really well. this line in the subclass' flavortext especially fits him: "A drunken master often enjoys playing the fool to bring gladness to the despondent or to demonstrate humility to the arrogant, but when battle is joined, the drunken master can be a maddening, masterful foe."

ZORO: (tiefling fighter. samurai subclass. bounty hunter)

a fighter with the samurai subclass is so very incredibly obvious... but i actually had a lot of fun geeking out while comparing the abilities to what he can do in canon; Fighting Spirit, Rapid Strike, and Strength Before Death especially! tiefling is also pretty on the nose for his demon pirate hunter shtick and asura form, but i thought he'd be really human-passing for a tiefling and theorized about his tail getting cut off at some point or another before joining the strawhats. initially wasnt gonna give him a feat, but i gave sanji a feat so i thought itd be unfair to not give him one as well, so sentinel fits the bill pretty well i think!

NAMI: (tabaxi rogue. arcane trickster subclass. criminal)

cat burglar -> full grown literal humanoid cat. this one is INCREDIBLY self indulgent... i love... cats... theres nothing deeper to this and no other reasoning. i took cat burglar and ran with it. can you tell that i love izutsumi dungeon meshi? rogue for the aforementioned burglar-ing as well, and the arcane trickster subclass for when she picks up climatact! the mage hand will be very useful for her pickpocketing. in the future as she levels up with timeskip, i can totally see her multiclassing into wizard as well! weather wizard!

USOPP: (lightfoot halfling artificer. artillerist subclass. urchin)

I HAD SO MUCH FUN THINKING ABOUT HIS CHARACTER SHEET. halfling's Naturally Stealthy ability lets him hide behind his crewmates since theyre (almost) all bigger than him, so its perfect for hiding behind zoro or sanji all the time. Lucky is also perfect for him, and I think Brave fits pretty well too when he puts on the sogeking mask. artillerist artificer is also very fun! tinkering and making magic items for his crew, and i think Eldritch Canon or Arcane Firearm could both be easily reflavored as kabuto or any of his inventions. for emphasizing his sniper-ness, the spell sniper feat was also necessary. i think hes my favorite of all the concepts. big ears and long nose combo is so cute to me.

SANJI: (half-elf monk. drunken master subclass. guild artisan (cook!))

race was mostly based on vibes i wont lie. squints. and that vinsmoke balogna or whatever too ig. but mostly vibes. along with the idea that i think a dwarf zeff raising him would be really funny and cute. monk is also obvious, and same subclass as luffy for mostly the same reasons. though the flavor fits him much less, i think the abilities still fit him perfectly, and this blurb specifically; "Your martial arts technique mixes combat training with the precision of a dancer." i really wanted to give him a different subclass from luffy, but i dislike all the other monk subclasses a lot and i found none of them fit him as well anyways, so to try and give them SOME differences, i gave him the crusher feat.

CHOPPER: (awakened deer(shifter statblock) cleric. life subclass. hermit)

this ones definitely a mouthful im sorry. awakened deer for obvious reasons, but due to magic instead of devil fruit stuff. when i was struggling with his race, i looked a lot at shifter because of his forms, but it occurred to me that itd be super cool if he could shift between all of the different shifter options instead of being stuck with just one to replicate his rumble balls. something like heavy point/guard point=beasthide, horn point/arm point(?maybe?)=longtooth, walk point/jumping point=swiftstride, and brain point=wildhunt. hed definitely need some kind of nerf though to balance out that homebrew... and cleric for class. duh.

ROBIN: (high elf wizard. order of scribes subclass. criminal)

robin is definitely the one i struggled the most with just because of her class. elf came pretty easily- shes very elegant and i think shed look cute with super long ears- and i landed on high elf instead of wood elf for the int-based abilities. i was really on the fence between sorcerer and wizard for her because i knew shed be a full spellcaster, but i didnt feel that any of the subclasses really fit her. i ended up going with wizard for order of the scribes since it focuses on texts and knowing everything. but also because robin with a flying talking sentient book would be crazy cool. it could also be similar to how she spawns mouths and eyes places to talk to or watch people. my "fuck it, why not. this would be rad. its my house" mindset kicked in with her i will admit. also the One with the Word ability made me cackle out loud when i read it. thats the funniest ability ever. anyways, i cant really think of a way to replicate her powers, but maybe we could just reflavor a bunch of spells to be her limbs or clutch; hold person, maximillian's earthen grasp, or evard's black tentacles. thatd probably work okay, and theres a handful of spells to replicate her ability to spawn eyes or mouths. unrelated, but i imagine nico olvia to be a drow. why? her hair is white. i am a simple man!

[saksukei]

subtle things simon ‘ghost’ riley does for you

masterlist | simon has a crush on you | captain john price version

everybody on the base is aware of one thing. first – to not mess with the skull masked lieutenant. second – to not mess with the skull masked lieutenant’s favorite. it's clear that simon has taken a liking to you, but he disguises it well enough for it to sweep under your radar.

just knowing eye stares. god. he's such a sucker for just staring at you, be it when you guys are training, when there's a meeting going on, in the barracks, when somebody says something stupid. he looks to you as a form of reassurance, giving you a slight nod most of the time. this is his way to communicate. he's thankful for his mask because he knows damn well he's blushing underneath when his eyes meet yours and you give him a big grin.

speaking of eye contact, if any time ghost says something sarcastic under his breath and you hear it despite being across the room, he will absolutely wink at you. it's disguised so so well omg. especially if you mention something that's a known joke between the two of you, god he’ll just lean back, give you a wink and continue listening to the briefing. (he also subtly checks you out by the way)

has a habit of just messing your hair. he knows it irritates you, but that's just his way of showing affection. the first time he reached out his gloved hand to mess your hair, price just grinned. he knew simon was smitten.

he lets you ramble on and on about things you like, dislike, philosophical debates, anything really, with him occasionally adding quips. soap is so shocked at simon’s change of attitude because when he talks for a minute, the lieutenant just asks him to shut up.

he secretly makes things easy for you. like you gotta carry big boxes to the warehouse? they’ll be done before you know it. a report is holding you up? it's already stapled and on your desk. “what else?” he asks. he's terribly intuitive as well, so he knows when something is bothering you.

has a habit of just standing behind you. that's his way of looking out for you. and if he senses any danger, you best believe he's gonna be on his A game. be it a sniper or be it some new private that made a suggestive remark, he’ll put them straight.

he's your biggest supporter except he's constipated in actually supporting. you did pretty well on a mission? most you’re getting out of him is “you did good, yeah?” but that's it.

he's also so so smug with his remarks. i’m talking constant shit eating grins, smirks, fucking irritating cocky behavior but he’s so hot with it. “you think you can take on me?” even with his mask on, u can just tell!! “oh yeah? c'mere and prove me wrong”

fucking simp enjoys training with you soooo much like especially the ‘first one to get pinned loses’ he puts you down so easily. but then he coaches you as well “c’mon you can fight better than this” as he points out other techniques to use. “atta girl” (i’m gonna kms). always the person to challenge you and push you to your limits because he's not taking a risk when it comes to your life.

[kathaynesart]

Replica Donnie: Technodrome Sniper.

(More info under the cut:)

In his prime, Donnie was the only known fighter who could successfully hit an infant Technodrome while it was in low orbit (they actually don't come down to Earth normally except to attack). He had the firepower, the precision, but most importantly the mind needed to calculate exactly where they were going to be ten seconds in the future for his attacks to make contact. While he was never able to do enough serious damage to the mother Technodrome, he did manage to use this method to plant a tracker on it that still works to this day.

Finally have the time to put some of my concepts to paper. Really wanted to figure out where these boys were in the height of their power and how to make them even more powerful than the teens at the end of the series. Donnie makes a big show of using a shot put technique in Purple Jacket, so it feels only natural that he'd know how to javelin throw as well. Seems more up his alley if you ask me. I don't foresee this concept being used in any of the Replica flashbacks I have planned, so figured I would share for posterity. (NOTE: outfit not finalized yet)

[tobiasdrake]

Which DBZ antagonist do you like the most?

Boring opinion, I know, but I gotta give it up for the Obvious Choice.

And I'm not just saying that because I haven't had a chance to talk about him yet.

Frieza runs a real estate empire that carries out genocidal acts of gentrification, purging tracts of land of their native inhabitants so he can sell their land for profit. Commenting on this choice for his ultimate villain, Akira Toriyama stated that he made this decision because real estate speculators are the worst people there are.

Fucking based.

From the moment we meet Frieza, he is a monster. Toriyama likes this Big Guy Little Guy dynamic where the Little Guy is the one you really need to watch out for. Frieza is the Littlest Guy ever.

He's so tiny. And yet you know exactly who the most dangerous person in this group is. Zero question.

By the end of this altercation, Frieza reveals one of his signature attacks, giving us our first glimpse of the kind of person and the kind of fighter he is. This is such an important moment for his character and I'm kinda mad that the anime had Dodoria do it instead.

Muri destroys the Scouters and blinds Frieza. I've talked before at length about the devastating impact that this move and the Namekian warriors' attack has on Frieza's campaign.

But once it's done, he has to face the music. He's not getting out of this alive.

In one last desperation play, Muri tells Cargo and Dende to run while blocking them with his body. And that's when it happens.

This is Frieza.

Specifically, this is Frieza's Death Beam. It's never actually given a name, but is generally referred to as Death Beam. We've seen a move like this only once before.

The Dodonpa, signature technique of Tsuru-senryu, first introduced by the assassin Taopaipai, was built for extreme lethality. This is not a technique for fighting; It's a technique for killing.

What makes Frieza's Death Beam stand out from the Dodonpa, however, is its accuracy and its speed. He threads the needle around Muri to hit Cargo before anyone even has a chance to react.

We see its accuracy and speed again six days later, when it finally catches up to the other child fleeing from him here.

The panelwork here calling attention to everyone's reactions as Frieza's ki bullet shoots past them, as his shot threads the needle between all obstacles in his path to strike his target far behind them. Dende is dead before anyone can even process that Frieza fired.

This is the difference between the two techniques. The Dodonpa is a gun. The Death Beam is a sniper rifle. Faced with the physical hurdle of bodies impeding his path, Frieza point-clicked Cargo and Dende to death.

He later executes Vegeta this same way.

Done with you.

All of this context for Frieza's sniping shot serves to set up the stunning subversion when Goku arrives to fight.

Frieza's never seen this before. Goku shouldn't even be able to see the shots coming until they've perforated his lungs. That's how Death Beam works. It's this moment that lays it out: Frieza's about to be tested like he's never been tested before.

Speaking of cool techniques, I've always been partial to this move from his Third Form.

The anime gives Frieza little ki bullets coming out of his fingers but I want to note that we never see a physical projectile when he's doing this. Frieza jams his fingers back and forth in the air while something pulverizes Piccolo.

I've always imagined he's poking the air so fast that it's hitting Piccolo with pressurized air currents. Similar to Goku's Mazoku air current punch from the 23rd Tenkaichi Budokai.

But that's just me.

In any case, Frieza's got some fun moves. He's something of a hobbyist martial artist. Which is to say, Frieza has an interest in martial arts. In addition to his Death Beam, Frieza's concocted a litany of other interesting techniques.

He even invented the Kienzan, independently of Krillin.

Though he can remote operate his Kienzan so it's strictly better than Krillin's. Frieza, in his spare time, has come up with a bunch of cool moves. Too bad he has no idea how to use them.

Frieza's greatest weakness is his inexperience. He practices martial arts the way a business CEO who bought a log splitter so he can cut some wood and feel woodsy practices agriculture. Frieza has never had a proper chance to truly experience martial arts, because he was born too powerful.

The only partner who's ever even dirtied his skin was his dad.

And even that isn't much. Frieza's too strong. He wants to pursue martial arts. He wants to hone his technique. But when you win every fight by blinking too hard in the opponent's direction, what even is there to practice?

Frieza created a transformation to seal away his immeasurable ki because he was born with so much ki flowing from him that he can't even contain it. At his peak, Frieza's ki bleeds out of him. He simply can't contain it.

Goku wonders aloud why Frieza took so long, even after the fight turned against him, to go to 100%. Frieza's been all "Oh I'm only using 10% power this is my 50% you made me go to 75%" and Goku's like, "Okay. My dude. What's this about, for real?

This, incidentally, is not a great translation. What Goku's saying here is supposed to be basically, "Perhaps when you use your full power, your body can't handle it."

He is correct.

Frieza's Full Power has a lot in common with Super Saiyan 3. His theoretical maximum ability is wildly different from the reality of what he's capable of, because he bleeds ki like it's going out of style.

So, while other characters wound up earning transformations that make them more powerful, Frieza created a transformation to seal away some of his incomprehensible ki.

Then he created a couple more because even though he could now control his strength and even manipulate the amount of ki he's releasing at a time, he was still too powerful for anyone to ever compete with and needed even more ki sealed away.

Again, not a fantastic translation from the people who brought us "bottom-tier boy", as Frieza's statement here could be interpreted as saying that he gets taken by a berserker rage or something.

What he's saying is more like, "My power is so great that I can't properly contain it."

Point is, Frieza transformed to lock down his ki and seal parts of it away, so he could control the rest better. Then he kept going, locking away more and more and more of his ki. And even at his most nerfed, he's still five times more powerful than the Second Strongest Guy in the Universe.

Frieza has never in his life had the opportunity to be pushed. That's what makes Goku so enthralling to him.

Frieza plays with Goku because he's genuinely having the time of his life. This guy can fight him in his Final Form. Nobody can fight him in his Final Form. He's so happy, he straight-up forgets that he's trying to complete a genocide against Goku's entire race.

He said that five minutes ago. Gohan's hidden power freaked Frieza the fuck out. Saiyans are too strong now. They've gotten too strong. Frieza cannot permit them to keep existing because they're getting strong. Every last Saiyan, every last one, must die. Every single one. Scorched earth, no survivors.

But then he meets a Saiyan martial artist who's a technical master and pushes him more than he ever thought possible and suddenly:

He goes from "Saiyans are TOO STRONG and they all must die because they might threaten me" to "OH MY GOD I'M HAVING SO MUCH FUN CAN I KEEP YOU!?"

It's this desire for a true rival, this opportunity to satisfy his amateur's curiosity about martial arts, that ultimately unravels him. Frieza has one ruthless and pragmatic option for ending this fight once it starts to be too much for him. He can technically stop the fight any time he wants.

But he can't bring himself to do it. He wants to fight. He wants to compete. Frieza's been on the outside looking in at martial arts for his entire life and even when his greatest fears are fulfilled and the Super Saiyan is in front of him, he wants to try.

So when he does attempt to pull his Lethal Ragequit, he pulls back at the last second. He can't bring himself to do it. Goku initially assesses that Frieza held back out of fear of hurting himself.

But later, as Frieza begins unlocking the final chains on his ki, Goku changes his assessment. Noting that if Frieza really held back simply out of a mistake, he could have shot the planet again at any point to finish the job. He's been letting this play out because he can't bring himself to end the greatest fight of his life that way.

This fight is still happening because Frieza wants to compete. I mean, he wants to win, of course, but he wants to win as a martial artist. He's never truly gotten to be a martial artist before.

He is not the guy winning the gold medal at the Tenkaichi Budokai. He has never been that guy. He's the guy who buys up the land the Tenkaichi Budokai is held on and then bulldozes all the people off of it. But in his heart of hearts, he wants to be that guy. That guy is so cool. Frieza wants to play too.

In a sense, by hosting the Cell Games, Cell got to live Frieza's greatest fantasy.

This is who Frieza is. He's the cruel and wicked heir to Genocide Realtors Inc., who is in love with the idea of being Tenshinhan - A desire that exists at odds with - and undermines - his pragmatic business sense, so to speak.

He is the most vile character in the history of Dragon Ball. The worst kind of person. He is also an overeager child whose wealth and privilege prevents him from ever truly enjoying his hobbies, to an extent that he'd be almost pitiable but for all the genocides.

And he is Dragon Ball's greatest villain.

[autisticgingerblonde]

If Fallout 4 companions had TikTok accounts

Cait would have an account dedicated to fighting and thirst traps (aimed at women mostly). Teaches women self-defense techniques. She earns a spot in the algorithm of muscle mommies. She also raises awareness for addicts and former addicts, educating on the effects of drugs and the reasons people seek them out in the first place. Honestly, it's a very good account to follow.

Codsworth is just confused about TikTok. He's like "oh so what are the children saying these days? Aura? I'll have to add a new word to my vocabulary banks! Cheerio, mum!"

Curie makes educational videos for all ages and all subjects. She has a series of learning Japanese, a series of vaccines and the science behind them, a series about the effects of different types of parenting, you name it. She also takes suggestions from her audience on what new things to research.

Danse has unintentional thirst traps. He talks about power armor and the Brotherhood of Steel but also posts workouts. These are what get the most attention out of everything he posts. The BookTok girlies find him and all hell breaks loose in the comment sections. He responds to this with, "Thank you, civilians. I am not sure what you mean, but I am glad you are supporting the Brotherhood of Steel by being on my page. Thank you for your enthusiasm for our righteous cause. Ad victorium." People armchair diagnose him as autistic.

Deacon does "GRWM as i tell you about the time i ______" videos where each day he looks completely different and you can never tell if he's telling the truth or not. He also does head shaving videos that double as story times or opinion pieces. You can't tell if those are true or not either.

Dogmeat has a viral account followed by millions. Get's a lot of "I can't imagine liking this guy" comments with the op replying to their own comment with "anymore than I already do. Huge fan!"

Hancock does subtle cheeky thirst traps and dance challenges. This entire post was inspired by the FACT that Hancock would participate in the brat summer trend and would do the Apple dance with Fahrenheit filming it. He also tells stories, mostly of him being high. He gets a lot of requests to cosplay Deadpool.

MacCready has a lot of things he does. Some videos are sniper trick shots, some are Grognak the Barbarian yapping (he does short lore deep dives when he can), and some are about being a young single dad. He doesn't show Duncan's face because he's extremely protective. Casually drops the most insane lore about his childhood which leads to comments like "are we just ignoring that he said he grew up in a cave?"

Nick Valentine would be a very popular fashion and "a day in the life of a detective". He'd do vintage fashion looks, like loose slacks and suspenders with a trench coat to top it off. Sometimes does a deep dive into detective history. Gets a lot of thirsty comments to which he replies "that's one way to get the coolant pumping."

Old Longfellow has the appeal of the New England, stormy weather, sweater-wearing fisherman aesthetic, and he tells stories of his youth while showing people around the area he grew up. Learns mobile phone cinematography to make it look cooler. Every video has either a lesson or a skill for survival.

Piper's account is solely focused on news and truth, posting every source she uses. She uses the trend of an insane video, like someone falling badly on the ground or getting splashed with water, and stitches it to look like a seamless transition of her rolling from the fall or being splashed to start talking about her news stories. It gets traction so she continues.

Porter Gage has a side gig of running TikTok accounts for different people. Gets the money, doesn't get the backlash when they get canceled for racism or worker exploitation.

Preston has an account dedicated to charity work and social activism. He makes sure to highlight organizations he feels are doing the world a service and regularly has fundraisers. He's well-known for always sharing content from people in dire situations and raising money for them. Has a master document of Go Fund Me pages and vets every one of them.

Strong has a lot of those unintentional boomer tiktoks that are 1 second long and he's just looking at the screen in confusion.

X6 cyber bullies the rest of them because he thinks having a TikTok is cringe and stupid (he is currently writing hate comments with his TikTok account)

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

31 / 1.7k / soap soulmate au, part 8

...

Peering down into the building from the adjacent rooftop, Soap sees you--his soulmate--through his sniper's scope. You. Here. On the wrong goddamn team again.

He mutters a curse into his radio.

You’re standing guard at your client’s back—a man who coasts under the radar as far as his criminal reputation is concerned, but a smuggler effective and dangerous enough to put him on the CIA’s hitlist. He’s hidden from view. Probably been told to stay away from windows for the night. You're obviously working security, outfitted to the nines as you would be on any job, rifle in hands, scanning the foyer for threats. You're unaware of 141’s snipers setting up on the rooftops outside.

Soap’s eyes darken. He doesn’t deal with internal conflict when he’s working. When things get complicated, he uncomplicates them. Right now, there are three thoughts in his head: 

One--he misses you.

Two--you blew him off to work for this scum.

And three--he needs to get his feet on the ground right now. You'll be lucky if all you get is an earful once he gets his hands on you.

He switches on his radio. "Got eyes on the target. LT, you in position yet?"

"Affirmative. In position," Ghost says, his voice gravelly and cold over the radio from his position on a neighboring rooftop. "Waiting on the signal."

Soap stares you down through his scope. His leather gloves creak and tighten around the handle of his rifle. It pisses him off how easy it would be to take the shot. If he were anyone else, you would be dead in moments. 

On the other hand, he could kill your client--your protectee--here and now. To hell with the mission parameters. It would be easy.

He sighs, flipping on his radio again. "Permission to infiltrate, Captain? Spotted a friendly inside."

Gaz's voice crackles over the radio instead. "Friendly this time, is she?" His tone makes it clear he’s spotted you too.

"Don't be jealous, Garrick."

"Positively green with envy, mate," Gaz replies, dry and sarcastic. "Too bad she’s not friendlier. Be helpful if you could actually get her to talk this time. Not to mention the other stunt you pulled."

Soap smirks and adjusts his scope to keep you in his sights. "Don't know what you're talkin' about."

Gaz scoffs. "Plausible deniability is for paperwork."

"Aye. Maybe I’ll mention in my next report who tipped me off about her bein' our hostage, too."

There's a beat of static. "Got nothing to say about that."

Then Laswell's voice cuts in. "Kyle has a point. The building is locked down tight and it’s gonna be hard to get a clean shot. If she's with our target's security detail, that’s our ticket inside."

"And if she's not willing to help us out?" Price asks.

"Depends on how persuasive Soap is willing to be."

"I might've picked up a technique or two last time,” Soap says.

The radio crackles as Price takes in a deep breath and sighs it out through his nose. Somehow, he makes it sound stern.

"Intel is intel," Ghost says.

“Failing that, bribery’s always a solid bet for a merc,” Gaz adds. “If they don’t shoot you on sight.”

"Right, then," Price says. "Soap, regroup with Ghost. Prepare to infiltrate. Gaz and I will take overwatch. Ghost, keep on comms. We'll find you the main breaker switch. Soap, I need you to keep things quiet, you hear me? Mission objective is priority. Do not, under any circumstances, be seen."

Soap's blood is already pumping hot. He’s never loved overwatch. He’d rather be close to the action--get his feet on the ground. Get his hands on you. "Copy, Captain. Ghost, I'm aimin' for the north corner. Meet me in five."

…

You mill about at your post, feeling twitchy and unsatisfied. This job is, on first glance, the same as any. Your PMC hired you and a few other mercs out to act as bodyguards for a man with more money than morals, if the size and clientele of this gathering is anything to go by. 

You shift your weight, scanning the overdressed crowd for threats. You wouldn’t hate it if this party were cancelled early.

"Stand up straight," your teammate snaps. "You're working. Act like it."

You scowl, but say nothing.

"Don't make that face at me," he says, bite in his tone. Horangi. Like he’s so patient. He's on just as short a leash as you, and it's pissing him off just as much. The difference is he has the seniority to take it out on you. 

"I don't know how you do this without feeling like a caged animal," you mutter.

His eyes follow a woman in a tight red dress as she passes by. Obviously, he knows what he'd rather be doing.

"A cage with a paycheck," he replies. "Some things you learn to tolerate."

You scan the room again. Your protectee is still here. That's good. You're hoping he takes his sweet time before he goes downstairs to start the so-called afterparty. 

You glance at Horangi again. "You know where the cargo is? Downstairs?"

"Last I heard. I got the east wing of this floor," he says. If the idea of that cargo is bothering him, he hides it well. He’s a good merc and he does what he’s told, like it or not.

You were a good merc, too, up until three weeks ago. Worrying about what rich idiots get up to isn't what you should be doing. You're supposed to keep the client happy. It's not your fault he can’t party without doing illegal shit.

You heave a sigh. "I'm going to check on it."

Horangi’s eyes narrow, flicking to you. "No, you’re not. Stay put."

"Fine. I'm going to the bathroom, then."

"Fine," Horangi snaps. "Go to the bathroom, and make sure you come right back. And don’t talk to anybody."

You walk away, rifle in hand, making your way into the back hall. You pass into the dim sconce light and swear you see something through the enormous glass windows as you walk by them. But there’s nothing there.

The lights flicker once. A beat. Just long enough for you to notice before they even out again. 

You pause at a flicker of movement near the side door up ahead. You have a split second to wonder why there’d be nobody securing the side door before the lights go out.

When you turn and head back for the foyer, you stop short. Down the hall, where you just came from, looms a familiar shape. The white skull on his mask pops out of the shadows. 

You don't make it back to the foyer.

Before you have a chance to react, your body armor is yanked hard from the back. You're pulled backward into an adjacent room and shoved hard against the wall. You expect the bite of steel against your neck or your temple, but it never comes. 

“Quiet, now."

You register Soap's familiar accent before your eyes adjust to the dark. "Johnny?"

"That’s right," he says. He's still got that way of speaking that's almost a purr when he's being quiet.

It suddenly feels like a long time since you’ve felt the heat of his body, pinned tight between him and the wall the way you are. He’s coiled tight, all lithe muscle and restrained strength. His eyes glitter with that wild, predatory look. It’s decidedly dangerous and tantalizing.

"I missed you, darlin'. You're gonna make this simple, aye? I know you can," he says.

You swallow the immediate urge to comply. Holy hell, you forgot what that feels like. "You need to stop greeting me like this," you hiss.

"I'd love nothin' more than to greet you in a different way, but you've got to start makin'  smarter decisions first." He leans all the way in and presses his nose into the crook between your neck and shoulder, nuzzling you in his full tactical gear. 

You muffle a sigh. He makes a quiet, content sound. 

"Besides, I kinda like this way of greetin’ ya. You make this little noise."

The radio on his neck echoes to life. You hear a tinny voice come through, saying something about an objective.

His eyes shut tight as he listens, one hand pressed firmly against the wall beside you. He doesn't back away yet. He's been dreaming of this for too long--laying his head on you and letting the sound of your heartbeat drown out everything else. It just can't fucking happen yet.

You feel, rather than hear, his low, annoyed grumble as he replies. "No, I copy. Just keep your bloody heads on."

You concentrate, trying to make out the voices of his teammates. It sounds like Ghost's voice.

Soap groans, his fingers flexing and gloves squeaking against the wallpaper. “I’ll be there in a minute, LT.”

You shift slightly. "Why are you here?"

A muscle twitches in Soap's jaw, and he pulls back so he can look you in the eye. "Should be askin' you the same thing. You’re on guard detail for a bloody criminal."

"It's a complicated situation."

"Then uncomplicate it."

You open your mouth to reply, but Soap's radio crackles back to life. This time, you can make out the words.

"Target located." Ghost's voice.

"Attaboy." Price. "Get him isolated. Third floor, east windows."

“Won’t be that easy,” Ghost replies. “He’s surrounded by civilians. Security’s thick.”

You tense even as Soap begins to relax. You fist your hand in the collar of his tactical vest, trying not to sound frantic. "Do not kill him. Johnny, listen to me."

Soap's expression turns grim, and he looks down at your fingers. Then he reaches up to cover your hand with his. "I know he's your client, but there's a reason we're here. He smuggles weapons. Big weapons, and not to anyone friendly. Just take it easy and let us clean up."

"No, listen," you snap, pulling him a millimeter closer. "He has the cargo here. It's not weapons. It's people."

...

← previous part / [part 8] / next part →

more Soap / masterlist tag

[secretlysamcro]

Black female reader x Jax Teller PLOT SPOILERS!!! explicit language & offensive language. If you’re under the age of 18, haven’t finished the show or dislike any of said topics, please read no further.

Request: Okay! I just saw your post about requests for Jax x black!reader and the first thing that popped into my head was this scene from Mr. & Mrs. Smith (because I am shamelessly obsessed with this movie) when they do the shooting game at the fair. I would LOVE to see your spin on this where reader is lowkey a sharp shooter and surprises Jax cause maybe she doesn’t look it 👀 Lmk what you think! I love your writing 🖤

Backstory: The Sons, Gemma & y/n spend a little time at fun town, y/n showing Jax how sharp her shot is, photo booths & unexpected screams…

Laughter blends with the hum of carnival rides as the scent of over priced fried food lingers in the air. Jax keeps his arm around you, his touch warm and possessive, pulling you closer with each step. Your smooth dark skin glows under the lights, a contrast to his pale complexion, marked with the inked memorial of his late father, John Teller.

Your eyes light up with excitement as you near the shooting game. Without hesitation, you tug Jax along, urging him forward with a quick pull. He smirks, the corners of his mouth twitching as he shoves his beer cup between his teeth to hold it.

With his free hand, he digs into his pocket, pulling out some change and tossing it to the fair worker. "Two" he says, his voice muffled by the cup. You skip forward, reaching for the sniper, your fingers brushing the cool metal as you prepare to take your shot.

Jax leans in, eyeing you with that cocky grin of his, "You know how to hold it?" he teases, his voice low.

You laugh softly, the question almost making you roll your eyes. If only he know, you think, but you play it off, flashing a sweet innocent smile. "Yeah" you reply, as you line up the gun, getting it perfectly positioned.

Jax, now finished with his beer, sets the cup down and leans casually against the side of the booth. His back is turned to the target, but his focus is entirely on you. "Yeah?" he challenges again, the doubt high in his voice.

"Yes Jax, damn..." you mockingly demand, a playful laugh slipping out before you can stop it.

You take aim, fire lazily, and miss. Five shots in a row, not even grazing a target. But you're not really trying, and each miss only makes you laugh. Jax joins in, shaking his head with a look of amused sympathy, like he genuinely feels bad for how shit you are.

You roll your eyes, biting back a grin as you step aside, letting Jax take his turn. He's good, you'll give him that. Lining up his shot, taking down most targets with ease, but still missing a few. You watch him intensely, eyes fixed on his every move as if you're trying to figure out his technique.

"I wanna go again!

He pauses, then lets out a laugh, repeating your words with a teasing tone "You wanna go again?" shaking his head, he digs into his pocket for some more change, rolling his eyes as he prepares to watch you fail all over again.

Only this time, you're not fucking around.

Lifting the rifle, you line up your shot, your focus precise. Before Jax even has the chance to turn back around, half the targets are already down. You make it look effortless and when he finally turns to see what's happening, his jaw drops to the ground.

By the time the last target falls, you lower the rifle, Jax's cocky grin now stretching across your own face. With your teddy, five times the size of Jax's, tucked under your arm, you strut past him. Before you get too far though, he pulls you into him, his arm wrapping around your shoulder.

"Where the hell did you learn to shoot like that?" He laughs, still in awe.

"Beginner's luck" you tease, snuggling closer to his chest as you continue to walk.

The Photo Booth was small to begin with, but with both of you crammed inside, you positioned awkwardly on Jax’s lap, it felt even smaller. Your curls, worn like a crown, framed your face perfectly, as always.

“Shit, y/n your hairs takin’ up all the goddamn space” he mutters, laughing awkwardly shifting around, trying to squeeze into the frame.

You shoot him a playful look, already knowing he’s just messing around. You smack his chest playfully as you laugh at his struggle.

“Just take the picture Jax” you laugh, tilting your head so the camera gets your best angle.

Stepping out of the booth, you wait for the photo strip to print. As soon as it pops out, you grab it, a satisfied smile spreading across your face.

“Oh, we look good” you say, nodding your head as you admire the two of you.

Jax leans in, taking a look before shaking his head with a smirk. “Nah, you look good. I’m barely in the damn thing” he laughs, pointing to where only half of his face peeks out from behind your curls.

Before you can even respond, a familiar voice cuts through the noise. “Well, ain’t you two the cutest” Clay remarks as he strolls over, Gemma slung over his shoulder. He sets her down gently, his eyes moving between you and Jax.

You laugh, alongside Jax. Without thinking. You step a little closer to him, drawn to the comfort of his presence. Not that you were scared, there’s just always been something about Clay that puts you on edge.

As you all stand around talking, a family approaches. An older man, a woman, and their younger daughter.

“Republicans, 12 o'clock” Clay hisses under his breath as they move closer.

Still, when the man steps forward, Clay puts on a grin, extending a hand “How you doing, Elliot?”

“Okay, Clay” the man responds, shaking his hand stiffly.

Gemma grips Clays arm a little tighter, you also pressing yourself closer to Jax without much thought.

“Hey Mom, I’m gonna go to the spin out again” The young girl pipes up.

Her mother frowns “Tristen, you’ve been on it four times already” she says, a little unimpressed.

The daughter pouts, shifting her weight and shrugging her shoulders.

Jax digs into his pocket, pulling out some leftover tokens “Hey, here” he says, handing them over to Tristen.

“That’s not necessary” her mother replies, her tone polite but borderline firm.

Jax just laughs, squeezing your hand before giving Tristen a wink “That’s aight, they kicked me off cause I was screaming too loud”

She brightens up instantly, saying thank you before she runs off towards the ride.

Once she’s gone, her parents don’t bother sticking around. They wrap up the conversation quickly, making it clear they’re in a hurry to move along.

You all watch as they disappear into the crowd. Gemma, shaking her head. “You’d think with all the money they had, they could pay someone to remove those sticks shoved up their asses”

Clay grins, his arm around Gemma “maybe he’s a little paranoid his country club cronies are gonna see him talkin’ to the outlaw”

Gemma laughs, moving in closer to Clay. “Come on, I need to talk to the outlaw” she says, shoving him into the photo booth.

Jax immediately, turns away, a disgusted look on his face “you both make me sick” he says, before grabbing you by the waist, pushing you forward. “Come on, let’s get outta here”

As you continue walking, you catch up with Bobby and Tig. “Darby’s guys?” Bobby asks, eyeing the unfamiliar men who had just passed by.

Jax watches them for a second before shaking his head “don’t recognise 'em” he speaks, sizing them up in the process. A voice cuts through the air.

“Oooh, look at the big bad bikers, huh? Gonna get clowny all wet?” You all turn towards the voice, only to see a guy dressed as a clown, grinning like an idiot, clearly looking to start something.

Jax, never one to walk away from a challenge, steps right up, ready to play. The booth worker hands him two yellow balls. The goal? Hit the target, dunk the clown.

Jax takes his first throw, but his shot is just a little off.

“Aww, what’s the matter tough guy? Can’t put the little ball into the tight hole?” The clown taunts, his voice a complete mockery. “Bet all your leather wearin’ butt buddies say the same”

Jax’s whole demeanor shifts. He’s pissed. His jaw clenches, his grip on the second ball tightening. You step in front of him before he can do something real stupid. Placing your hands on his chest to calm him down.

“Gimme it” you say, giving him your confident smile.

He exhales sharply through his nose but hands you the extra ball. You take your time walking up to the booth, making sure the clown sees the sway in your hips. He puckers his lips, making an over exaggerated kissy face at you. Jax moving to lunge, but Bobby and Tig grab his arms, holding him back.

You look over your shoulder with a little smirk. “Don’t worry babe, I got this” lining up your shot, you take a breath before launching the ball, of course, you hit the target dead on.

The clown drops straight into the water, suddenly he doesn’t seem so cocky.

Jax bursts into laughter, his arms wrapping around your waist, a little too tight as your waist beads dig into your skin. “That’s my girl”.

Meanwhile, Bobby and Tig rush forward, making sure to push the asshole under just a little longer than necessary.

The fairground is quieter now, the crowd thinning as the night stretches on. You and jax are currently tucked away behind a burger van, hidden from view. The metal of the truck cool against your back as you lean against it, whilst Jax stands close in front of you, pulling pieces from your candy floss and bringing them to your lips.

His fingers brush against your lips, staying just a little too long each time. You close your mouth around them, your tongue grazing his skin before he pulls away, his blue eyes darkening as he watches you.

“You doin’ that on purpose darlin��?” His voice is low and teasing, as usual.

“Maybe” you tease, shifting just enough for your knee to brush exactly where he’ll notice.

"You know, you still never told me where you learned to shoot like that" he chuckles, his thumb grazing over your bottom lip.

"You..." you poke his chest, smiling "...shouldn't judge a book by its cover". There's a teasing tone in your voice, daring him to challenge you.

"I..." he presses his forehead against yours, playful but firm "...don't read books" he adds, trying to sound cool.

"Maybe you should start" You arch a brow, waiting for his comeback.

His expression shifts slightly, his head tilting "You callin' me stupid?" there's a faintest edge of offence in his voice, unsure if he should be insulted or amused.

"No" you say, grinning "I'm just sayin, you don't exactly look like the type who enjoys foot rubs or lets me braid his hair for fun"

Jax narrows his eyes, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Alright, alright keep it down" he says, shaking his head. "I got a reputation to protect" You shift a little, straightening up, "Speaking of books…" you hesitate for a second, knowing he wont wanna talk about it. "you read any more of that manuscript you found?"

Jax exhales deeply, his nostrils flaring in the slightest. "Nah, haven't had the time" he murmurs, his voice dipping lower in tone.

You study him for a moment before offering, "I could read it to you tonight?…" But when you see the way his shoulders stay stiff, you decide to lighten the mood. "…While I do your nails, maybe throw in a face mask too" you tease, arching your hips toward him.

He snorts, shaking his head "Yeah, cause that's exactly what I need"

You tap his chest again playfully "Self care, Teller. You should try it some time" “Why do I need to take care of myself when you do it all for me, huh?” he murmurs, his voice dipping into that familiar, flirty tone as he leans in closer. He bites his lip, gripping the the back of your neck tight as he leans in. His lips meeting yours, slow and deliberately. He could take you right then and there, knowing full well that you'd let him, but the moment is cut short.

A piercing scream shattering through the entire fair.

“TRISTEN!”

A woman’s voice, panicked and desperate.

Then again, louder this time.

“TRISTEN!”

You and Jax both freeze. Your eyes meeting his, concern flickering between you both.

“Isn’t Tristen the lil' girl from earlier?” You ask, an uneasy feeling twisting in your stomach.

Jax takes a second to register. “Yeah, Elliot’s kid”

Without another word, you both move, rushing back into the heart of the fair, the flashing lights seeming harsher now and the music from the rides providing an eerie backdrop to the chaos unfolding.

You spot Elliot and his wife frantically searching, their faces tight with fear.

“What’s going on?” You ask, stepping towards Tristan’s mother. Your hand resting lightly on her arm, a small attempt at comfort.

“We can’t find Tristen” she says; her voice shaking as her eyes dart around. The panic in them making your chest tighten.

“Oh shit” Jax curses under his breath, glancing towards Elliot who’s looking just as frantic.

“She’s gotta be here somewhere” you offer, trying to reassure her, but the mother immediately shakes her head.

“No! We’ve looked everywhere” she insists, her fear spilling over, just like her tears.

Elliot comes rushing back, his expression pained. “She’s not on any of the rides”

“Oh my god, oh my god” his wife whispers, her breathing uneven, her entire body trembling, she stumbles forward, calling out for her daughter again, and again, and again.

The name “Tristen” echoing through the grounds, desperate with urgency.

Photos & gifs are not mine, just edited together.

For the lovely @daughterofapollo-7 🖤

Love an excuse to rewatch episodes, not that I need it it’s all I fucking watch lol. Hope you all enjoy!

Jax Teller Masterlist

[howtofightwrite]

Hey! I'm writing a series with a character who is a sniper. She is a private hire and ends up meeting someone who works with shorter ranged guns and weapons.

I'm just wondering how they would differ when killing someone and what are the tells of each weapon. I want to make it clear that the weapons are different but I'm not sure what those differences are

So, something that stuck out to me originally, when reading this is, most snipers are going to have a close range PDW. Whether that's just their sidearm or something more substantial, they'd need to be proficient with something in close quarters if it comes to that.

Now, the hard part about answering this question in the abstract is that, almost everything associated with firearms is extremely date sensitive.

For example, if your CQB/CQC character was originally trained sometime in the late 90s to late 2000s (in a Western country), they'd have likely encountered Center Axis Re-lock. Outside of those 20 years, then that style hadn't seen widespread adoption, or had fallen out of favor.

For some specific film examples, Vincent (Tom Cruise) from Collateral (2004) would have been working as an assassin for at least a decade by the time we see him in the film. We can make this assessment based on the way he handles the USP, and then compare to CQC training. His one-handed disarm and execute he uses in the alley puts his training sometime in the 80s to 90s at the earliest, while his lack of CAR in close quarters tells you he didn't have Western military or law enforcement training after the mid-90s.

Another film example that might surprise you is John Wick (Keanu Reeves). In those films he exhibits CQC training that suggests he still in the military less than 15 years before the events of the first film. Except his CAR stances are actually a little sloppy (which is unusual for Reeves), which suggests that Wick may have observed others using the stance, and then improvised a version of it for his own use. Meaning you can't really estimate when his combat training occurred. (This might also might explain why he's a bit sloppy about when he switches between Weaver and CAR.) By the way, it is quite difficult to pick this out. It took a few experts dinging on the first Wick film before I really started picking up on the issues with Reeves' technique. And I haven't seen anyone else draw the conclusion that Wick is probably self-taught in CAR. (This was corrected for the later films, as Reeves did get proper training in CAR in preparation for the second film.)

In particular, this is a singular example, but there are a lot of things someone can do that will inform you about their background and training. This starts with weapon selection. Things like their preferred sidearm and primary can be very insightful. People tend to go in one of two directions with firearms. Either, they're very willing to adapt and experiment, or they'll find something they're comfortable with and hone in with that specific firearm.

For example, is your sniper carrying around a Remington 700, or something like an MSR or AWM? Both are legitimate answers, but they say very different things about how your character approaches their area of expertise. Similarly, are they carrying a 1911 pattern pistol, or something more modern, like an HK USP or FN P45?

If your sniper is carrying around an AMT Hardballer, and your CQC specialist is carrying around a P45t, your CQC specialist has twice the magazine capacity. They can afford to dump rounds into someone until they stop twitching. Where as a Hardballer is “just” an extremely well made 1911. Their kills are going to look different, but it's a function of the weapon they chose.

Without knowing what they're carrying, it's very hard to answer definitively how their kills will look.

If it was me, kitting out for CQC in a situation where I'd need to hide the weapon under a jacket, I'd seriously consider an AAC Honey Badger hidden under a sport coat. (I know, I trash talked the Honey Badger a few years ago, before getting a good look at one and seeing just how tiny they are. Mea Culpa. I should know better than to shit on a gun I'm unfamiliar with by now. That's a toxic element of gun culture I've been trying to get away from. It still clings a bit sometimes.) Similarly, the Mk18 and Colt 733 are also pretty good options. That's a little bit of an M4a1 bias, but it's a decent platform. There are other valid options, those are just the first that come to mind for me.

If your character was kitting for CQC, and wanted Warsaw pact weapons, the Groza is a bit exotic, but that's what it was designed for. The SR-3M Vikhr is an update of the Val, and a pretty legitimate choice. They're both 9x39mm rifles, so long range accuracy isn't happening, but in close quarters they still hit stupidly hard. Granted, any Krinkov would work in that role. (So, mostly AKS-74Us.) (I think there were some 7.62x39mm Krinkovs, but I can't remember the name.)

So, ultimately, identifying the differences between the weapons, starts with knowing what the weapons are. Having a basic idea of how they handle (even if that's not first hand), and then being able to see how they differ from one another. This is made even harder in the sense that modern firearms have become extremely modular. Given the option to fully kit out the same gun for you CQC specialist, it's a pretty good bet you and I would walk away with distinctly different end results. Even if the base model was the same. (For the record, I'm not saying my configuration would be better. I have biases and preferences that aren't necessarily the best option available.)

The best place to start, is looking at the kinds of weapons your character would use. Your sniper's going to want a long range precision rifle and a sidearm. She might also go for a small machine pistol/SMG. Your CQC specialist would probably prioritize an actual primary. That might be an SMG, a carbine, or even a shotgun (because nothing says hello quite like three or four 12 gauge shells pumped out of a fully automatic Saiga. (And before someone corrects me, yes, I know, there are no production full-auto Saigas, however they can be illegally modified for full-auto.)

Once you know how different the weapons are, you can start digging into how the characters themselves approach combat, and how their respective styles differ.

-Starke

This blog is supported through Patreon. Patrons get access to new posts three days early, and direct access to us through Discord. If you’re already a Patron, thank you. If you’d like to support us, please consider becoming a Patron.

[aeskairo]

Okay, but we should take a moment to appreciate this scene:

So these birds are called woodcocks TODAY. But in the 1800s they were called SNIPES.

The word "snipe" used to cover about 40 species of very similar looking birds, but sometime in the past 200 years, a few of those birds were renamed woodcocks.

But anyway, when they're flying, they make these unpredictable turns so theyre one of the most difficult birds to shoot.

So a sniper is literally someone who is really fucking good at shooting THESE SPECIFIC BIRDS.

That is literally where the word "Sniper" comes from.

At this point in the story Asirpa just met Ogata. She doesn't know anything about him yet.

Ogata has based his entire self worth on being a sniper.

He feels that being raised in a broken home caused him to not develop things that are fundamentally human. He's defective and broken.... missing important pieces. That's why people mistreat him and things don't work out for him.

As defective and broken as he sees himself, he does have one good thing. HE IS A DAMN GOOD SNIPER.

He went ALL IN on this sniping thing.

He has disturbingly intimate knowledge of all different types of guns, down to the sounds they make while being fired. He knows and employs a bunch of sniping techniques that no one in Japan has ever seen, he knows the history of sniping, he read up about sniping techniques of the American revolution. He can load a gun with his tongue.

Like I said, ALL IN.

His marksmanship is thing that gives him value. Even if people despise him, he can be relied upon and needed as a weapon.

It's the only thing about himself that he's proud of.

And Asirpa just denied him that.....

She doesn't think he can do it. She doesn't think he's good enough.

#Triggered.jpg

So of course he was going to get up at the asscrack of dawn to shoot these damn birds. He probably spent the whole night bubbling around in his low self-worth.

He is a sniper and can indeed shoot a snipe..... In fact he can shoot THREE snipes. Way more than you.

There you go. This is an important scene.

Little girl meets Adult man for the first time and invalidates him in the worst way possible.

[captain-pheonix]

Hello. I will call you Phoenix because that sounds very cool and you are cool and I platonically like you and enjoy your works.

Anyways I have come to request an all mercs + Pauling if you’re comfortable and want to write that. (If not maybe just Medic +whoever else you want to write for.) with a reader who has Schizophrenia? I’ve been going through some moments with it and the TF2 mercs are my comfort characters and your blog just feels nice.

If you aren’t comfortable with this feel free to block me or just ignore this ask entirely! Thank you very much!

A/n: GAHHH ILY PLATONICALLY TOO 🫶 ty for sending in a request, I’m so glad you enjoy my works! I try my best! I made sure I did some more extensive reasearch about schizophrenia/the real experience with it before I wrote this, please let me know if I should make some edits! (And other ppl reading this, also don’t be afraid to send an ask about making edits!)

Mercs + Pauling w/ reader w/ Schizophrenia (headcannons)

(Platonic or romantic!)

Pauling:

- will have some guilt about how she works all the time and can’t be there for you

- might send some gifts and call you in between jobs/travel, asking how you’ve been, asking if now was a good time or if you needed a distraction

- as soon as she gets the chance to come see you, she takes it

- asks over and over if you’re okay, because it’s been keeping her anxious on her jobs

- she’ll comfort you with sweet words over the phone if you call her for help

- reminds you to take your meds

Scout:

- absolutely clueless

- buys into stereotypes

- “the voices” type shit

- this guy is gonna need a thorough explanation as to how you feel all the time

- probably asks you how you’re feeling all the time too

- might be a little too quick to do his sneak-attack hugs

- likes hugging you a lot, so that could offer some grounding if you’re having delusions/hallucinations

- words of affirmation 10/10

- expect a lot of words…

- speaking of a lot of words, need an auditory distraction? The scout-o-matic is here! (Only $69.99)

Soldier:

- clueless prick

- thinks you’re some spy or something

- it might take the entirety of the team to convince him otherwise and try to explain it to him with your help

- might also buy into the stereotypes

- if you say you hear or see something that man is going to run around screaming with his shovel trying to chase them off for you (believes they’re real, but only you have magic powers to see them or something)

Medic:

- #1 meds administer

- does not buy into stereotypes, since he may know something about it

- (fw researching you heavy)

- dude is taking notes as you’re straight up not having it

- jk he goes to comfort you if he can after a bit

- you WILL be staying in the infirmary with him (sorry I don’t make the rules)

- will look into techniques to help you

Demo:

- you already know he’s offering alcohol to take the edge off/distract

- you have tried many times to tell him that that will not work

- if you had alcohol with your meds things would not end well

- offers himself as a napping space for being really exhausted (I’d take him up on that)

- he might already be passed out when you go to ask if you two can nap

- might wanna just scootch in there

Heavy:

- will protect you from the bad things (or at least try)

- if someone hurt pookie that’s no good it will not do

- offers protective bear hugs if you need something/somewhere/someone to cuddle up to and be distracted/grounded

Pyro:

- if you’re describing what you see to them, or have in the past, they might try to draw them with good old fashioned crayons and printer paper

- also schizophrenic 😭

- huge empathy from them

- but uhm they might also just straight up not know they’re schizophrenic, so bro could just be like “same”

- alright enough Gen z talk from me (there can never be enough)

- even if just hanging out with them makes you feel more comfortable

Sniper:

- probably feels bad for you

- opts to hang out indoors if hallucinations/delusions are not fun outside

- comforts you when you think you see or hear something

Spy:

- if he’s attempting to be subtle you might expect some noise cancelling headphones and other helpful tools show up at your door

- if you need a break from certain rooms he’s definitely gonna offer his smoking room

- gets you pill organizers for your meds if that’s something you struggle with

- offers lots of gentle comfort

- let’s be honest, this guy was clueless before you started talking to him about it and what it was

- now he just wants to offer help

Engie:

- probably pities you a bit

- gives you that Texan hospitality but may take a bit to understand you better

- will 10/10 make you something if there’s something he can make to help and if it’s possible

- gonna try everything in his power to make your life easier

————————

Hopefully I did okay 😭 ty for sending in your request!!

[parsleepotato]

Support Class Pinups Spy, Medic, and Sniper CW: Sexy semi-nude men ahead (no actual nudity)

The lineart versions

Extra blood splatter and no glasses versions of Medic

the book with the references from it that I used for the pinups (I got the book from a thrift store, and it has plenty of great poses and such in it that I may use again for future pieces)

Spy's look here is inspired by other's interpretations of his unmasked look, with my own addition. I love the idea of him having a tattoo or a few he keeps well hidden, and lots of scars, just like Sniper (and while Sniper doesn't have any here, I adore tatted Sniper as well!) These were helpful in me starting to alter my style a bit, and get comfortable using new techniques and tools on CSP, much like the comic redraws that came before. there are a few things I would change in them now after a year, but i'm also still proud of them in the end. Reblogs and feedback is greatly appreciated! Please don't steal my work, or repost it without my permission. I hope you all have a wonderful day!

[clancycatears]

/SPECGRU INTELLIGENCE - PRICE MASTERLIST

CONFIDENTIAL PERSONNEL FILE — JOHN PRICE THIS IS AN IMPORTANT RECORD. SAFEGUARD IT.

SPECGRU OPERATOR AFFILIATIONS: BRITISH ARMY (FORMERLY), SPECIAL AIR SERVICE, TASK FORCE 141, COALITION, ARMISTICE (DISBANDED), GHOST TEAM, SPECGRU

NAME: (LAST, FIRST, MIDDLE): PRICE, JOHN, G. SERVICE NUMBER: 05389026 RANK: CAPTAIN (EST. 2011) ALIASES: PRICE, JOHN, BRAVO 0-6, GHOST 0-1, BOSS, ACTUAL, CAP, OLD MAN (BY FARAH & GHOST) STATUS: ALIVE D.O.B: APRIL 18TH, 1985 GENDER: MALE NATIONALITY: BRITISH ETHNICITY: WHITE (CAUCASIAN) LATERALITY: AMBIDEXTROUS (LEFT AND RIGHT) HEIGHT: 6'3"ft (1.91m / 190.5cm) WEIGHT: 202lbs (91.63kg) VISION: 20/20 BLOOD TYPE: O- EYE COLOR: BLUE HAIR COLOR: BROWN LANGUAGES: ENGLISH (FLUENT), ARABIC (BASIC), RUSSIAN (BASIC), GERMAN (MINIMAL), SPANISH (MINIMAL)

HOME ADDRESS: XXXXX XXXXX XXXXX, XXXXX, UNITED KINGDOM BIRTHPLACE: HEREFORDSHIRE, UNITED KINGDOM — CITIZEN — NON-CITIZEN RELATIVES: GERTRUDE PRICE (MOTHER - DECEASED), CLARENCE PRICE (FATHER - DECEASED), ROBERT PRICE (BROTHER - DECEASED) MARITAL STATUS: SINGLE CHILDREN: JOHN MACTAVISH (ADOPTED SON - DECEASED)

SPECIALIST FIELDS: - CLOSE QUARTER COMBAT - SNIPER TECHNIQUES - HOSTAGE RESCUE - COUNTER TERRORISM - KILL-CAPTURE MISSIONS - WEAPONS HANDLING (KILD 141) - WEAPONS TACTICS - SEEK-AND-STRIKE OPERATIONS

SKILLS AND SPECIALIZATIONS: - PHYSICALLY ACTIVE (HIKES, SWIMS, BIKES - ON LEAVE) - TWO DOGS

TECHNICAL RECORD BRANCH OF SERVICE: - BRITISH ARMY (2003) - SPECIAL AIR SERVICE (2009) - TASK FORCE 141 (2020) - GHOST TEAM (2022)

DATE ENLISTED: - 2001 (INFANTRY) - 2003 (ARMY) DATE DISCHARGED: N/A

MEDICAL RECORD INJURIES AND HOSPITALIZATIONS: - STAB WOUND (2002 - 3X, 2003 - 1X, 2004 - 6X, 2007 - 2X) - BULLET WOUND (2002 - 1X, 2007 - 1X, 2008 - 1X, 2010 - 1X, 2011 - 2X, 2012 - 1X, 2012 - 1X, 2013 - 1X, 2017 - 1X, 2023 - 1X) - ABRAISON (2003 - 1X, 2005 - 2X, 2009 - 1X, 2014 - 1X) - CONCUSSION (2002 - 1X, 2009 - 1X, 2019 - 1X) - SPRAINED ANKLE (2012 - 1X) MEDICATION LIST: - AMOXICILLIN / CLAUVANIC ACID (INFECTION - 2004) - MORPHINE (PAIN - 2002, 2007, 2010, 2013, 2017) - KETAMINE (PAIN - 2023) - PARACETAMOL (PAIN - 2002-2022) - BUPROPION (SMOKING CESSATION - 2002) PERTINENT MEDICAL HISTORY: - ASPIRIN ALLERGY - SMOKES OFTEN - 30 PACK-YEARS - (+) FH OF CANCER - (-) FH OF DIABETES, HTN, HYPERTENSION

SAS FITNESS TEST PUSH-UPS: YES SIT-UPS: YES JUMP FROM 10M TOWER: YES 2.5KM TIME: 7MINS 2SECS 25KM WATER SWIM: YES 200M SWIM/TREAD: YES UNDERWATER OBJECT RETRIEVAL AND DIVE TEST: YES 13KM HILL RUN TIME: 51MIN 39SECS — HARDLY BROKE A SWEAT. IMPRESSIVE

AUTHOR'S NOTE: this is PURE headcanon (85%) so please please make your own assumptions about price (unless you want to from this post!!!). yes price adopted soap some random time in the canon. idc what y'all say. yes the other boys are sons to him—but soap is THE son. it hurts me. good god. i love you price.

PRICE MODEL: @661ave

INSPIRATION: @shadow0-1 & @mistydeyes (pulled some info from here too!!!)

[lyricalt]

[tf2] stealing a plane

For fic_promptly's theme, which is delightfully [ CRIME ]. Prompt: stealing Rating: G Ship: sniperspy Note: haha, i've always wondered how Spy knew about Sniper knowing how to steal AND fly a plane from the comic. He must've had a previous experience. :')

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When their getaway truck suddenly goes up in flames, Spy begins to seriously reconsider his stance on taking up non-solo missions outside his usual day job at RED. He really isn’t meant for teaming up so closely like this. Not in his spare time. No matter how good the money or the company. 

Spy reaches into his pocket for a cigarette, but it seems to be the theme of the day that he comes up short. He inhales, folds his arms, and deliberates how good his Italian leather shoes are for traversing the rocky hills of—his mind immediately redacts that minor detail, for his ego’s sake. What a fucking mess. 

“I believe the nearest town is thirty kilometers west,” Spy says, still staring out at the half-empty airfield. 

Good company happens to come in the form of Sniper hauling an assortment of stolen items in a duffle bag. Spy had caught him snatching trinkets and other useless items from several offices and bodies during their two-man assault. There should be plenty of other things to loot from the mercenary base but Spy can’t find himself to be too critical when Sniper tosses him a carton of cigarettes. 

Spy lights up using the exploded truck. At the first hit of nicotine, his optimism about the situation improves by a tiny bit. Besides, anything worth stealing is likely too heavy to carry. If Spy can make it out with a pack of cigarettes and enough will power to collect his payment by the end of the day then he should be grateful.

Sniper looks to be in good spirits despite the lack of transportation. Of course, his boots are meant for hiking. He gives Spy a sidelong glance before he continues walking towards the runway.

“Well, shame about the truck,” Sniper says then points to one of the mercenary planes, “Guess we’ll have to try out them birds over there.”

At first, Spy doesn’t understand what Sniper means. He looks to see where Sniper is pointing. “Don’t be ridiculous. That can’t fit in your bag.”

Sniper ignores him, breaking into a light jog to get a closer look at one of the fighter jets. Spy has no choice but to follow after him. They inspect the fighter jet together—Spy, of course, has no idea what they’re looking for, but when Sniper’s face brightens by a fraction, Spy stops mid-drag.

“Ah. A Dassault Mirage…” Sniper trails off, unsure. He pats the underbelly of the jet. For some reason, he glances at Spy for some clarification.

Similarly, Spy is feeling conflicted about Sniper knowing French military aircraft details, but he’s also familiar with them. At least enough to recognize the more modern designs. “...Cinq.”

“Five! That’s right,” Sniper says, satisfied, and hands Spy the duffle bag so that he can scramble up the wing of the Dassault Mirage.

Spy slowly turns his head to look up at Sniper. “You can fly that? Why didn’t I know this?”

“Erm, I suppose I can try the Druine over there, but I ain’t too familiar with the controls,” Sniper explains, badly. There’s the sound of kicking. Spy can only assume Sniper is trying to open the cockpit using the typical Australian technique of brute force.

“No. I mean—you’re a pilot?” Spy gives the duffle bag a small frown of distaste. There’s a bobble head figurine peeking out from one of the pockets. He readjusts his grip in a temporary underhand hold that would imply that he isn’t going to be responsible for it. The bag is wretchedly heavy. It feels like Sniper had looted several tomes rather than office supplies.

Sniper lets out a short laugh. “Pilot? Nah, not by a longshot. I can fly as well as I can work one of Heavy’s miniguns.”

“And what does that mean exactly?”

“Meaning I get the general concept. Load, aim, pull trigger. Flip some switches, wiggle the joystick, take off.”

“Ah, so no better than what I can do,” Spy says dryly.

“Nuh-uh. I’ve actually flown,” Sniper says, peering down at Spy with a grin. “And we’re in luck. It’s a Mirage 5D. Two seater.”

“What a shame. I was hoping to ride in your lap.”

“Nah. I’d have to ride in yours,” Sniper says, making grabby hands for the duffle bag. “Can’t reach the controls with you in the way.”

Spy scoffs but pushes the duffle bag up for Sniper to take. A second later, Sniper’s hand reaches out for Spy.

“Dashed your dreams of joining the mile high club, eh?” Sniper asks with a knowing glint in his eye.

Spy takes Sniper’s hand. “I would like to clarify that my card to that particular club has already been stamped. Multiple times.”

“Yowch,” Sniper replies, hauling Spy up on the wing with a little too much strength. ”Well, I ain’t got a club card. You’re gonna have to invite me later, yeah?”

Spy bumps against his chest, and Sniper wraps an arm around his waist to steady him. Quite unnecessary, but Spy allows it before they both climb into the cockpit; Sniper up front and him in the back. Much to his annoyance, the duffle bag of stolen goods gets placed in his lap. Spy would’ve started complaining, but Sniper begins to flip some switches and press some buttons with a casual air, and Spy feels benevolent enough to shut his mouth as they take off. 

Against all odds, getting up in the air goes smoothly. Spy’s ears pop from the change in elevation. He loosens his deathgrip on the duffle bag once Sniper takes them to what must be cruising altitude.

“Bonza,” says Sniper, sounding pleased. The jet shudders on an updraft, but he nudges the wing back in place. “You good? You went awfully quiet during take-off.”

“I was mentally reciting some prayers,” Spy says, shaking out of his impromptu memory suppression exercise. “But I’m finished now.”

“Great,” Sniper says. He gestures to the control panel on Spy’s side. “Mind seeing if there’s a manual in the glove compartment? Take off’s easy. It’s the landing bits I ain’t too sure of.”

Understandably, Spy’s confidence in surviving this entire ordeal plummets down to rock bottom. His silence might have given Sniper a hint of his mood—Sniper lets out a sigh. 

“Kidding about the glove compartment,” he says. “Was actually hoping I can fly us to the base at Badlands, crash land, and die terribly in the explosion. Then we’ll respawn, good as new.” 

Spy puts his face into his hands. “This barely makes the cutoff of what I would consider an acceptable plan.”

“How ‘bout I crashed right into the BLU’s base for a laugh? Would that be better?”

Spy lifts his head. “Actually, yes.” After a moment, he puts his head back into his palms. “Actually, no.” 

Sniper huffs. “Oh. Don’t tell me it’s against company policy.”

“Wide spread blunt force trauma with a stolen foreign aircraft is, likely, an unsanctioned act of aggression.” 

“That’s silly. I don’t see the bloody difference between killing a man with a gun or killing ‘em with a plane. Dead is dead—and hey. I hear rustling back there. You tryin’ to steal my loot?”

Spy has the duffle bag open in hopes that Sniper had somehow stolen a parachute. Instead, his hands hit stacks of binders, booklets, and office knick-knacks, including three staplers for some reason.

“You took their intelligence?” Spy asks, staring down at the crumpled papers.

“I’m guessing I did? I know that wasn’t one of our objectives but I figured I might as well. S’all in French anyway. Can’t read ‘em.”

Spy pulls out a booklet. It reads, Comment Piloter un Dassault Mirage Cinq D. He shuts his eyes, unable to form words for several long moments.

The plane lurches as Sniper turns around to look over his shoulder at Spy. He eyes the manual, eyebrows raising.

“Was that in the glove compartment? Why didn’t you say so?”

Spy deftly jumps out of another memory-suppression exercise. He opens the manual. It even has little diagrams of the fighter jet.

“Do you want me to read all this?” he asks.

“Nah. Skip to the bit about landing.”

“Of course,” Spy says, thumbing to the correct page. “The first instruction is to not crash.”

“Not even into the BLU’s base?”

“Not even.”